


A New Life- A.K.A 5 Things Harry Learned About Real Family

by Harry4Life (ImaMePanda)



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Adopted Harry Potter, Also Dumbledore gets punched, American Harry Potter, Because I'm badass like that, Big family, Bikers, But without bashing, Child Harry Potter, Gen, Harry Potter was Adopted by Other(s), Lesbian Stoner Momma - Freeform, eventually...
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 12:31:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4625451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImaMePanda/pseuds/Harry4Life
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rissa doesn't know what to think when three strangers appear literally out of nowhere, and almost dump a child in her lap.  But she's been dumped like that as a kid, and the answer is obvious-of course she'll take him.</p>
<p>Harry's new family is unconventional, loud, messy, and more then a little bit terrifying for a kid who's spent most of his life locked in a cupboard.  But his new Momma kisses and cuddles and says she loves him, and these cousins chase away the bullies...so maybe it will be okay here...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

1\. Normal people do not keep children in cupboards. 

Rissa is shocked by them-of course she is, they appear out of nowhere in her bedroom-and reacts defensively, as taught. She is very sorry about the old man's-Albus Dumbledore's-nose, but she sees no reason he couldn't have appeared out of nowhere _outside_ of her house and then knocked on the door. The old woman-Professor McGonagall-with him seems to agree, judging by the stern look and unsympathetic eyes as she straightens his nose with her wand, muttering about being forced to invade unsuspecting young ladies bedrooms. It appears to have been an accident, from the apologetic protests he is making, but the old woman is having none of it. The man with the long nose and sheets of black hair looks as though he wants to laugh, but settles for glaring at her.

“You are Marissa Noble? Daughter of Paul Mason and Lena Noble?” She nods, wanting to pipe back something about how they should probably be sure of whose bedroom they were popping into before they did the popping, but not quite daring. It seemed like it was probably a bad idea to screw with people who could just appear places. 

Then they got right down to business. No, they were not here to tell Rissa she had magical powers. She had rather suspected this, having seen no evidence of mystical powers for her own part; but would have been lying if she said she wasn't a little disappointed. No, they were here on important business and it was not necessarily good news. Family business. She knew she had family in England, yes? 

Rissa had no clue what the hell they were talking about. Hair-sheets man may or may not have murmured, “I told you so,” to the old man clad in what she suddenly realizes are long flowing robes of bright sunshine yellow and hair and beard down to his waist. Huh. Well, she'd always kind of associated magic and hippies so maybe it wasn't that surprising...she glances at the other two and is slightly disappointed to see them in relatively normal, if old fashioned, clothing. 

Rissa led everyone down the stairs of the large, but still full, house she shared with her cousin's family. She wasn't sure if it was a good thing or not that they'd gone shopping that afternoon, but was definitely grateful that she had finished cleaning up after the loud and noisy family party the night before. She was particularly grateful that she had put away the bong she'd rewarded herself with a hit out of after her work was done. She gestured for everyone to sit, the two elderly professors settling on the couch, and the younger man, who had failed to introduce himself, leaning on the wall behind them, eying her coolly. Her nerves finally catching up to her, she hesitated to sit herself. “Um..can I get anyone something to drink?” 

“Ahh, I think I shall handle that,” And with a whirl of his wand, a much more cheerful looking Albus Dumbledore produced a tea tray far fancier than anything Rissa had in the house, with a steaming pot of tea, four cups, four saucers and quite a selection of cookies on it. Rissa stared at it opened mouth. It was one thing to see people, who had obviously already existed even if not in her bedroom, appear in front of her. It was quite another to see food created out of nothing, which is what it looked like had just happened. 

Though she supposed the logical thing was to assume the food had been moved just like the people... 

“Really Albus, always showing off,” Professor McGonagall sniffed, but there was a sliver of amused affection in her voice. Not sure what else to do Rissa moved to the nearest armchair and sank down into it, waiting to see what would happen next. There was a long pause, awkward for everyone but Dumbledore as he took his time filling his saucer with a variety of cookies, humming quietly but happily to himself. Rissa stared. This dude was fucked in the head, right? Senile? He seemed nice, but really, what was going on? 

“Don't leave the girl just sitting there, Albus,” snapped 'Dude who's name she didn't know', in a decidedly exasperated voice, Professor McGonagall harrumphing in agreement. Albus looked up, surprised, almost as though he'd forgotten everyone else was in the room, then nodded apologetically. 

“Thank you Severus, I'm afraid I got a bit distracted.” He turned to Rissa, “I apologize, Severus is correct-were you introduced? No? This is Professor Severus Snape, our potions master-now is not the time for delays, but old men like me are often set in their habits.” He set his saucer down and folded his hands in his lap, appraising her almost warily. “I'm afraid I don't know where to start...it never occurred to me that you wouldn't have some idea...” Rissa really, really, wished he would get to the point-and right then he seemed to, “What do you know about your father?” 

“Dad? He's just normal. I mean, he's a bit of a dick, but he's alright enough in his own way. Why? You're not gonna tell me he's magic, right?” 

“Language.” The younger man, apparently Severus Snape, drawled this at her languidly, eyebrows lowered disapprovingly, and Rissa, no longer intimidated, gave him what she called her “really fucker?” look. She wasn't stupid enough to believe he was actually offended by her language, but rather thought he was just being difficult because he could. He looked the type. 

Or, worse, he was trying to put her in “her place”, though whether it was the place of children or women or just those he thought of as inferior, Rissa didn't know. Her hackles rose and she felt herself almost bearing her teeth as she responded. 

“I'm not a kid, and I don't even know you, _dude_.” 

“Not a child, but little more than that.” He glared at her, his look having gone from darkly amused to almost personal dislike. Rissa had to admit she was impressed, but he still had nothing on her Auntie Emily. 

__“Not really sure I give much of a f-.”_ _

__“Miss Noble, really.” Rissa looked over at Professor McGonagall's disapproving face, with pursed, tight lips, and blushed as red as her hair. Still not as good as Auntie, but not someone to mess with, clearly._ _

__“Sorry Ma'am.”_ _

__“Yes, well. Let's have no more of that.” Rissa nodded, and McGonagall went on, “Albus, dragging this out is really not helping matters. I shall start explaining myself in a minute, and you may not like that.”_ _

__The old man sighed and nodded, dragging one hand down his beard, as he murmured almost too quietly for Rissa to hear, “Will you ever forgive me old friend...?” He cleared his throat and began to talk. And talk. And talk. Telling Rissa heaps of family history, things she might not have believed except it fit so well with the things she already knew._ _

__Her paternal Grandmother, Dorothy Mason, had been a USO show girl during WW2 and had met a British Soldier, one Michael Evans and had a brief love affair. It was only after Dorothy returned home that she discovered she was pregnant, and six months later her father Paul had been born. Rissa did know all that actually, minus Michael Evans's name, and plus the fact that her Grandma had written to him multiple times and never received a response. She didn't know that Michael Evans had gone home and a few years later married one Rose Allen, with which he had two daughters, Petunia and Lily Evans. Lily Evans had magic, and had been invited to join the magical world at the age of eleven._ _

__All well her Grandma Dottie had raised her Dad on beans and welfare cheese as a single mother in the forties and fifties, until she'd met Grandpa Tim. Great. Old Dude realllyyyy needed to get on with the point of his story..._ _

__“So, I've got a couple of extra Aunties out there, and one of them is magical. I guess that's pretty awesome. Thanks for letting me know, but, no offense, what does any of this have to do with you guys? And if this has something to do with this aunt; why are you talking to me and not my Dad?”_ _

__Dumbledore didn't exactly answer her question but he did start talking again, so she supposed that would have to do. He told her about a war. A horrible war that had torn the wizarding world apart, over what Dumbledore called “the nonsense of blood purity”, and a terrorist group called the Death Eaters. It sounded like it was the same kind of crazy eugenics crap the Nazi's had believed in, only magical, so fuck those guys. Both Professor McGonagall and Severus winced at the name of the terrorist groups leader, which was just sad. It was hard for her to imagine having such fear of someone that their name made you flinch. It was clear that they were both hard in their own way so it wasn't cowardice they were flinching with, but that bone deep sort of fear that produced an action that was more instinct than anything else._ _

__He told her that because her Aunt wasn't born to a wizarding family, and she married the heir of one of the oldest there was, she and her husband were persecuted by the group, and even received quite a lot of backlash from the regular community. So her Auntie had been dealing with Nazi's and just regular old racist bastards, just to go about her everyday life._ _

__And then it got worse. So much worse._ _

__So much death. So much bravery from such a small group of people._ _

__War always made orphans, but the triumphant ending wasn't supposed to leave one more._ _

__Rissa didn't have to know the young couple that died too young to cry a little for them, to imagine the young mother hearing the thump of her husband's body hit the ground, trapped and with no real way to protect the small life dependent on her..._ _

__She wasn't really sure she believed the bit about her baby cousin having vanquished the evil lord before his second birthday, but the idea of the love her Aunt Lily (who had become quite real to her in the past half hour) had for little Harry protecting him, like an invisible shield was rather romantic sounding, and of course, it wasn't as though she knew anything about how magic worked._ _

__Rissa thought she knew what they were going to ask her now, and she knew her answer, it was a rather full house, but they would make it work. They'd made room for her when she was just a kid, and now they'd do it again. But she wasn't sure where the little boy had been in the intervening years, why were they moving him now? And why they were asking her and not her dad...well, okay, she got why they weren't asking her dad, but why not the other aunt they'd mentioned? Rissa was only twenty._ _

__And of course, Dumbledore was happy to explain. Harry _had ___gone to her other aunt._ _

___Or rather, been dumped on her doorstep like unwanted trash in the middle of a chilly night less than a day after he'd seen his mother murdered._ _ _

___Rissa felt her hands curl into fists at her sides as she directed a horrified and incredulous stare between at-least-she-has-the-decency-to-look-ashamed McGonagall and almost-completely-oblivious-to-any-wrongdoing-and-willfully-ignoring-that-niggle-of-guilt Dumbledore, and was pleased to see that Snape looked as disgusted as she did, though not surprised, apparently having heard this story before._ _ _

___Dumbledore cleared his throat, apparently not enjoying the looks on him, and continued, “Recently it was discovered...”_ _ _

___Rissa sat in shock when Dumbledore was done with the story. She had known it was going to get worse, there are only a few reasons you would remove a child from a home after four years, but she hadn't realized how much worse. Dear god, what kind of monster...that crazy bitch Petunia was no family of hers, and if she ever saw her...she wasn't ordinarily much of a fighter, but...the old man's voice cut into her thoughts again, “and from our observations, we believe that though you may not be the most conventional choice,” by which Rissa figured he meant she was a lesbian stoner perpetually working on her first novel, and supported herself writing mostly crap short stories for magazines and a string of temp jobs, “you are more than capable of providing a happy, loving environment. You already have a large and close-knit family, which is exactly what Harry needs most. There is a trust fund set up to take care of all the necessary ex-”_ _ _

__“Of course I'll take him. And well money won't hurt, I can take care of him without it. If he needs something special I can't afford, I'll use it then, I suppose. He'll need therapy at the least, after the mess you left him in. I won't let him want for anything important. But me and mine can take care of our own. And I'm _not_ sorry I punched you in the nose anymore you stupid old bastard.” Rissa glared at Dumbledore with her hands in fists and tears streaming down her face, and the old man had the decency to look down in shame. Instead of tutting over her language Professor McGonagall handed over a hankie and patted her shoulder briskly, and Rissa did her best to dry her tears, a little embarrassed at her outburst, but it was hard when they kept leaking out. That poor baby. What kind of godawful monsters could do that to a baby?! _ _

____And of course at that moment her cousin walked in through the backdoor into the kitchen with her husband and kids, home from grocery shopping, and saw her on the couch, crying and surrounded by strangers. It was only some very quick talking (and that two of the possible home invaders were geriatric...Dumbledore anyway...and the bags of groceries still in his hands) that kept Jason, who had immediately started forward demanding loudly to know what was going on and whether Rissa was okay, from starting a fight. May, always the more observant of the two, noticed the tea things on the table and the handkerchief that had been given to her cousin, and ushered the kids into the playroom off the kitchen calmly even as they protested, and sat down her own bag of groceries, getting the things that had to go in the freezer put away and leaving the rest, listening to Rissa talk all the while, “I'm fine Jason, really! Please don't threaten the mostly elderly people visiting,” May snorted at that, almost dropping the box of pasta she was putting in the cupboard, “I've just had some sad news that's all,” Rissa took a deep breath, and plunged on._ _ _ _

____“Found out I've got two aunt's I didn't know about, Dad's half sisters on his Dad's side, and one of them is dead and the other one abused her own nephew when he was placed with her, my cousin Harry, who has been removed from her care, of course. It was bad. Really bad. They...they kept him in a little cupboard under their stairs. With the damned mops.” Her composure almost broke then, but she took in a deep breath and carried on. “This is Professor Dumbledore, who represents my Aunt Lily's estate. Harry has no one now, and so I've been asked to take him. I said yes.” Her face quivered then and this time she didn't try and stop it, tears springing into her eyes. Jason shucked his bags of groceries to the ground and hurried to comfort her. Rissa might not be one of his kids, but she'd lived with him and May since she was twelve, and he reacted to her tears just as he would to theirs, letting Rissa tuck herself into his side and rocking her lightly as he sat on the arm of the chair beside her. May came up behind the armchair and carded a hand down through her hair, leaving it resting on her neck for a moment before starting over again, and trying to keep her own shock out of her voice._ _ _ _

____“Okay. Okay.” She shook herself a bit, and did her best to sound comforting when she spoke next, “Of course you did, sweet girl, I wouldn't have expected anything else. I'm proud of you, and your open heart. We'll have to get a room ready for him, get things ready. It'll be alright, you'll see. You'll see...”_ _ _ _

____*.*.*.*.*.*_ _ _ _

____Across the ocean in a castle in Scotland a small boy was hearing a bedtime story for the first time._ _ _ _

____In a small alcove off the hospital wing a quiet boy, not scared any longer, but still rather uneasy in his new surroundings lay stiffly in a soft bed that had been conjured up just for him, his hands holding tight to the covers as Madame Pomfrey read him The Fountain of Fair Fortune, trying not to jump or in anyway show that he was scared. The story was scary but in an exciting sort of way-he didn't want her to stop! She'd made him promise to tell if he was scared, but Harry figured excited-scared didn't really count._ _ _ _

____Madame Pomfrey was being very nice to him, even if she made him drink a lot of nasty tasting medicines and rest most of the time. The first week he'd been there he'd slept almost all the time, more than he had ever wanted to before._ _ _ _

____And even when he was feeling better he still got to stay in the lovely comfy bed. Aunt Petunia had let him sleep on the couch a few times when he was really, really, sick. He'd heard her tell Uncle Vernon, “It's simply too much trouble to bend down and care for the dratted boy in there. Don't worry, I laid a plastic garbage bag and then a sheet over it, he won't contaminate it.” Harry had shared this with Madame Pomfrey and her lips had gotten very tight and each of her pale cheeks had gained a spot of high color. For a moment Harry had thought she was angry with him, but she'd taken a deep breath, smiled, and told him that he would always have a bed to sleep in from now on. She would make sure of it._ _ _ _

____Harry had believed her._ _ _ _

____He'd heard stories before, when the teacher read them in school, but no one had ever read one to just him before. She'd given him a bear too, a pale blue bear with gray on his tummy and paws, and wonderfully soft fur, which lay next to him on his pillow. Scout, Madame Pomfrey had said, when Harry hadn't expected to be allowed to take the toy to bed with him, was Harry's forever now. She had placed a charm on him, and no one would be able to take him away from Harry. She'd said this with a sniff of disdain, the sort Aunt Petunia used for anyone not just like her, but Madame seemed to reserve for people who might take toys from children._ _ _ _

____Anyway, Scout was his bear now, and a boy's bear belonged with him, including in his bed. Harry thought this was a very good idea. With a yawn he shifted on his pillow, snaking an arm out and pulling Scouts velvety cheek into his neck, eyes fluttering closed against his will as Madame Pomfrey voice detailed how the hero's pass the third challenge, a raging river, his last conscious thought to wonder what the “treasure of their past” meant anyway..._ _ _ _


	2. Normal People Do NOT Keep Children In Cupboards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Rissa starts to realize the enormity of the task before her; we meet Harry's cousins properly.

*.*.*.*.*.*

Rissa's tears slowly dried as her thoughts began to move from the train wreck that had been her little cousin's past to what she was going to need to do to prepare for his future. She kept her head tucked against Jason's shoulder, still soaking up the comfort, but her mind was starting to move at a million miles an hour. Harry would need the therapy she mentioned earlier, of course, but there were more immediate concerns. Getting a room set up for him was first, and clothes and toys. Books, of course. Lots of books. Luckily, May saved everything, and there were boxes and boxes of kids stuff of all type in the attic, so that was where they'd start. Rissa knew for a fact that there was a box with about thirty of her favorite picture books in it, and another with all sorts of kiddy comics, that she'd brought with her when she moved in. 

And once the family got word there was a new little one, all sorts of odds and ends would start to appear. Hopefully they would be things a traumatized four year old could actually use, at least mostly. May still talked about the time great Uncle Joey had shown up at Rissa's fourteenth birthday party with a motorcycle of all things. Even her old man had been pissed at that one. Rissa had just been pissed that no one would let her ride it. Cousin Christa's boy was five, about half a year older than Harry. She only had girls younger so Rissa hoped some hand me downs would head their way. Felix was always dressed so cute. She wasn't completely destitute either. Once she got him situated, and used to her a little bit, her and that kid were hitting up a toy store. There was that cool place with all sorts of handmade toys and gadgets and things in between the library and the coffee shop, they'd start there. It would be pretty stupid to take him anywhere like the mall right away of course, he'd been traumatized enough. 

But there was the important word, and the part that was freaking Rissa out the most. Traumatized. Harry would be traumatized, scared-he might even be scared of her. Rissa bit her lip at this, but kept thinking. They'd have to introduce him to the family slowly, just the people who lived here at first...she'd have to make sure her little cousins knew how important it was to not overwhelm him, groaning to herself when she thought of the likely hood of that working. They were great kids, but, well...loud. Really, really loud.

As if to showcase her thoughts a commotion started over by the playroom entrance, and a small figure shot into the middle of the room, ignoring the shouts from the other children behind her. 

“Hey, hey Mister, will you do your magic thing with the lights again?” Professor Dumbledore blinked in surprise at the small girl bouncing in front of him, not sure quite where she had come from, “My brothers don't believe me that I saw you.” 

“My magic what, my dear?” Rissa frowned slightly at this, when would Kelly have had a chance to see him using magic? Was today not the first time they'd been here? Well no, she supposed not, they'd more than implied that they'd been checking her out. Still, it made Rissa wonder just how long they'd been hanging around...

Just then an embarrassed and slightly annoyed teenage boy, about thirteen, appeared and grabbed his younger sister's hand, “Kelly, we're not supposed to be in here, c'mon. Sorry Mom, she snuck past me.”

Snape spoke from his patch of wall, drawling out, “Miss Noble, is your cousin related to you on your father's side of the family?”

Rissa wasn't sure why this was important, but nodded, “Yeah, May is Dad's baby cousin, so technically my first cousin once removed or some sh-” May flicked her lightly on the neck and she changed it to, “thing like that.”

Professor McGonagall seemed to realize what Snape was getting at and smiled a tight, pleased smile at him, “Excellent point Severus. Albus, they are blood relatives of a parent or guardian, or soon to be anyway, and live in the same household, therefore-”

“They are exempt from the Statue of Secrecy. Of course. In that case, I suppose I will demonstrate some magic after all,” Trent turned where he was, a skeptical but curious look on his face as Kelly hissed excitedly at him, 'told you so, told you so,' almost dancing in place, and Alex crept out of the doorway he'd been lurking in to hide behind his big brother. 

“What the hell are you play-”, Jason's face went from screwed up suspicious confusion, to slack jawed amazement as his wife's lamp suddenly grew legs and began to do a jig. “Okay, you aren't playing at anything.” He slid off the arm of the armchair and sat back on the floor on his haunches, face slightly pale. Rissa stuffed a hand over her mouth to cover up her snort of laughter.

“Really Albus, must you always overdo everything.” McGonagall said with a exasperated sigh, “You could at least show them something practical.” With a wave of her wand and a few muttered words the lamp settled down and it's legs grew back into itself. She looked around the room, and then spotting a curtain that had been lightly mauled by the family cat flicked her wand lightly, saying “Reparo,” this time, speaking loudly enough so everyone could hear, and the tattered and stretched fabric tightened and wove itself back together. May, who Rissa knew had been dreading searching the used shops or Goodwills to find a replacement, or worse, having to get whole new curtains, looked quite impressed. 

“That was the mending charm, a simple household charm that all magical people master in school. There are many types of magic and Charms is one. My specialty is transfiguration, the art of turning something into something else.” She smiled with a bit more warmth then usual at the awed children, “If you three run and each find an old plushie-stuffed animal I believe you call them-you don't mind having transfigured, I will show you a bit more magic.” The kids were almost shoving each other to get into their playroom first they were so excited by this prospect. Professor McGonagall nodded in satisfaction, that would be a much more practical and pleasing introduction to magic than Albus's trick with the lamp. After years of introducing muggleborns to the wizarding world she had many tricks to ease the situation.

“Magic is real,” breathed Jason, and Rissa laughed from beside him in her armchair. 

“Amazing isn't it?” He nodded, although he still looked a bit queasy, and May rubbed his shoulder lightly.

“Not to ask a stupid question, but this means little Harry is magical, right?” Professor Dumbledore smiled happily at her and nodded, opening his mouth to answer when the children ran back into the room, chattering and excited, pushing to be first in line, and despite being smallest Kelly managed to secure the spot (with only a little bit of pinching), handing over a rather beat-up stuffed bunny.

“Can you make it a kitty please? A magic kitty with a hat and purple whiskers.” In short order the battered bunny was a cuddly, thick furred yellow tabby with pale purple whiskers and a small witches cap sat jauntily on the side of it's head. Kelly, as was her nature, thrilled excited thank you's at Professor McGonagall as she squeezed the new toy in her arms, then dashed forward to hug the old woman tightly, startling her. Unused to such affection McGonagall didn't respond for a moment, then carefully returned the hug, a small, but deeply satisfied smile playing on her lips.

“You are welcome, Miss Caylo. I am glad you like it.” She patted the small girl lightly on the back and disentangled herself gently from the hug, “And now it is time for one of your brothers to have a turn.” Kelly skipped over to her mother to show off her new treasure, and Trent, not wanting to look like a jerk, motioned for his little brother to go next. Alex, suddenly shy again, shook his head and stepped back, and after a moment of trying to persuade him, Trent happily stepped forward. He knew very well that he was probably too old for this, but it was just so cool.

“Could you please make it a dragon, ma'am? A real one-well if they exist, I suppose. Do dragons exist?”

“Yes, many different types. Let's see here,” She examined the toy, a cheap and dusty Scooby Doo stuffie that had been won at a carnival a few years before and mostly ignored since, “I think a Hebridean Black, one of the two dragon types native to Great Britain, is appropriate.” The muggles in the room all watched fascinated as the body twisted and stretched itself into a fierce dragon, the cheap brown felt thickening and turning black, layers stiffening and raising into glistening yet still soft scales, an arrow shaped looking tail and wings rising out of the body and unfurling slowly, the flat painted on eyes turning almost 3 dimensional and such an electric purple they seemed to glow. 

“Wow...” Trent gaped in awe and reached out hesitantly to take the toy, as though afraid it would break. “That is so cool...thank you so much.” He stroked the now almost slippery smooth scales and then tucked it under his arm carefully, stepping back so his brother could have a turn.

Minerva nodded her appreciation of his thanks, answering, “You are welcome, lad.” She was quite pleased with these children so far, with this whole family that would become little Harry's new one. She hadn't been so sure, when the possibility had first been brought up, after the uncle had been ruled out. Anything was better then those wretched Dursley's of course, but...

It was bad enough they were Americans after all, but to place him with someone so young had seemed rather irresponsible. After the mistake they had already made, they couldn't afford to make another. This was a child's life they were playing with. 

Yet, despite some of her more unusual traits, and a few things she still had reservations on (She did not approve of the marijuana use, for one; particularly that from what she'd seen of the party the night before, once the children were in bed the whole family partook of quite a bit, on and off for the rest of the night. Albus didn't seem to think there was anything wrong with it at all. Minerva had always had her suspicions about what was in that pipe of his...), Miss Noble seemed to be the best choice they had. Really she seemed sweet, if a bit rough around the edges. Smart, and loyal to family too, to take in a cousin she had never met.

A gem in the rough was always a better choice than a polished fake. 

She turned her attention to the shy middle brother, beckoning him forward in a kind but brisk manner, and Alex came not so much reluctantly but just very slowly towards her, “And what would you like?” He hesitantly held out a clearly much loved blue monkey, one eye missing, fabric so worn it was delicate. Alex cradled it gently in his hands, as though afraid of damaging it. His mother made a soft noise from across the room and shifted forward slightly, surprised at the toy he had chosen if Minerva had the right of it.

“Do you think-,” Alex licked his lips, his mouth suddenly dry, “do you think you could fix him instead of changing him into something else? Please? He was my first toy I picked myself.” Professor McGonagall nodded seriously at the earnest face, having the teachers touch of understanding that no matter how sweet the statement had been, the boy would not enjoy being cooed over for it. Not that she was the cooing type, anyway.

“I will do my best to restore him to his proper condition,” She promised solemnly, before lifting her wand and running it over the toy, leaving him to rest in his owners arms. First she refilled and fluffed the areas where his stuffing had gotten thin and compressed, his body slowly filling in here and there. Then she repaired the fabric he was made of, the small patches and stitched up areas where Alex's mother had sewed the toy up unraveling and the holes and tears mended themselves as though they had never been there, the fabric brightening to the true sky blue it hadn't been in years and the spots where the plush fur had worn away filling in thick and soft. Finally she transfigured a button eye to match the one he had and secured it sturdily to the smiling face. The young boy cradled the newly restored toy to his chest like it was a treasured infant, and when he looked up there were tears in his eyes, and he seemed unable to speak. He didn't have too-the look on his face was by far the only thanks Minerva needed. Still, he was a polite boy and managed to nod gratefully at her, and she nodded back at him before she had to look away for a moment, there was a bit of dust in the air...

Yes, this family would be a lovely choice.

“I think perhaps we should give our friends here time to take in the new information we have given them, and in the meantime the three of us should perhaps take ourselves on a brief walk of the neighborhood?” Albus smiled cheerily as he directed the statement to his companions. Severus grumbled, seemingly more out of principal than any other reason, but Albus raised an eyebrow at him and he quickly shut-up.

*.*.*.*.*.*

“So it's really important that you guys try and be calm and gentle with him. I mean, four is practically a baby compared to you guys, anyway, but even more gentle then with your other little cousins. After everything he's gone through he's likely to think any play fighting, even between the three of you, is serious.” Her little cousins were looking solemnly back at her and Rissa felt briefly ashamed that she'd been worried they would be upset or resentful of Harry's sudden appearance in their lives. She'd edited out 90% of what she'd been told, of course, but just hearing about Harry's cupboard had made Kelly cry and she was now nestled into May's lap, and Jason had gained an armful of Alex not long after.

Trent sitting on the arm of the couch closest to his mother, did not look sad, though he didn't brush away the comforting hand she had placed on his knee, either. The thirteen year old held himself stiffly, hands clenched into fists as his side. No, Trent was angry. He was furious.

Rissa knew that face. It had been the look on his face when a boy much older then either of them had shoved Alex out of the climbing tree at the park. Before Rissa was even halfway across to where Alex had lain sprawled, clutching his wrist, Trent had been on top of the other boy, having yanked him from his own perch on the tree and then jumped down to land on top of him...

“What are we going to do about them?” As his parents looked at him askance for imagining that they would let their thirteen year old be involved with anything like that Rissa grinned. No, she didn't think she'd have to worry about the other kids and Harry at all...

*.*.*.*.*.*

Severus and Minerva strolled casually up the sidewalk, as casually as those two ever did anything anyway. Albus had drifted behind almost immediately, gawking at the muggle's houses like a child in a candy store. “I think even just the little time you have spent with Harry has softened you up Severus,” Minerva said with a wry glance at the younger man, “You're taking a might more interest in this than I would have thought.

“Me? Hardly. I'm not the one who decided to play Mary Poppins for them, transfiguring new toys out of old.” He arched one black eyebrow almost impossibly high as he looked back at Minerva, a hint of both amusement and annoyance playing about his mouth. Minerva didn't have to know who Mary Poppins was to know when she was being made fun of and shot a look at the young man, preparing to retort.

“Now, now,” said Albus, walking up the sidewalk towards them (He'd had to, of course, admire the rock garden two houses down from the Caylo's) , amusement shining freely on his face as two of his “favorites” needled each other, “We are all friends here are we not?”

“Oh, of course Albus.” Snape sneered sarcastically, “Best of friends.” The mild look his mentor shot him had his mouth snapping shut, but he did not apologize, nor did the old man expect him to.

“Now then, what do you both think of Miss Noble? A most delightful young woman wouldn't you say? Even if she did break my nose.” He sighed here, apparently just remembering this and rubbed mournfully at the body part in question. Severus tried very hard not to smirk and didn't quite succeed.

“She certainly seems a capable enough creature, with a strong sense of duty. Some of her habits are questionable, but the girl seems to already be very protective of Harry.” Minerva spoke with reluctant approval, which everyone in hearing knew meant she quite liked her even if she wouldn't admit it.

“Does it matter what I think?” Severus drawled, though there was a stiffness to his back that gave lie to his casual tone, “I told you to let her alone in the first place. One muggle placement didn't work out, and the boy has to enter the wizarding world in a scant six years. It seems foolish to attempt another. But I see little point in discussing it now, when you've already made the decision, Albus.”

“The wizarding world is far too dangerous for our young hero.” Snape whirled suddenly, face truly angry rather than sneering or superior as it usually looked when arguing. 

“Young hero? Do you hear yourself Albus? You are talking about a four year old child. The boy shouldn't have to be anybody's hero!” Albus regarded Severus less with surprise and more with contrition. He should have expected this. Severus cared for very few, disliked many, and was indifferent to the rest. This meant that with the few he cared for, although he would never show it, he cared deeply. Not always in the healthiest of ways however. 

“We will be unable to protect him in our world, you know this Severus. It might be a more distant connection than with the Dursley woman but his half-cousin still shares some of the same blood as his mother. The blood wards can be moved, and will likely grow in power with a loving family.” Albus did not put a hand on Severus's shoulder for his next words; though he wanted to, it would not be appreciated. “We are not abandoning him. We will make sure things go well this time.”

The man's sharp eyes stared back, and then he turned away abruptly, embarrassed and angry at his display of emotion. In a very stiff voice, he responded, “But, of course.” And then marched off down the sidewalk as though none of that had ever happened.

*.*.*.*.*.*

 

“Oh yes, this is a lovely space, I can see that,” Professor McGonagall nodded as she looked around the room, especially admiring the large window seat with the overstuffed cushion. It was the smallest bedroom in the house, and was set up as a sewing/quilting/scrapbooking/get the hell away from the kids room for May, but she was perfectly glad to give it up if it meant Harry could have a room of his own. No one thought it was a good idea to stick a four year old in a room with a nine and thirteen year old, especially one who was likely to be easily overwhelmed.

“And the built in closet adds a lot of space, really,” the two woman smiled at each other a bit stiffly, and May found she couldn't avoid asking for a moment longer, “How bad is it?” Rissa had more than edited the story earlier, with the kids in the room.

She didn't have to clarify what she asking about, Professor McGonagall understood and answered with no preamble or sugar coating, and May found her liking of the woman growing exponentially, “Young Mr. Potter-Harry-was not beaten, except for being bullied and pushed around by his cousin, nor molested, but was abused in about every other way possible. He was underfed, and even with potions and proper meals the effects of malnutrition will take years to fade, and the medi-wizards fear that his vision will be permanently effected. His father wore glasses, but his eyes were never as bad as Harry's already are. I don't think it will come as a surprise that he was never fitted for glasses despite this. He was not given a proper bedroom, but instead kept in a small and dirty boot cupboard on an old cot mattress, and he had to share it with the mops and cleaning supplies. In addition to sleeping in there, he was often locked in for punishment. Recently, within half a year, that began to extend to being locked in for up to twenty four hours at a time. He was dressed in his much larger cousin's cast-offs, and required to wear them until they had turned into rags, which as I'm sure you can imagine did not make playground life easy.” 

Professor McGonagall sniffed and pulled off her glasses to dab briskly at her eyes for just a moment with a small handkerchief, and May took the opportunity to sink down in the window seat; overwhelmed by the information, but grateful for it all the same. She would need it, and she didn't want Rissa to have to tell her. “And he was demonized, not just given no psychical or emotional affection, but actively verbally attacked, told he was worthless, stupid, evil, a millstone around their necks. And a freak. For every time they called him another name he was called a freak a hundred times.” 

May wanted them dead. It did not matter that she had not met Harry yet-even if the boy were not about to practically become her nephew, even if she had simply read this story in the paper she would feel the same. Because he was family...for that she wanted them to suffer, “Are they at least going to rot in jail?” 

“Because they are muggles it will be left up to the muggle authorities. But yes, I do believe so.”

“Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay, both the initial one and and the fact that it's been more than a week ago that I promised an update in a week. Enjoy!


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